RUNAWAY BRIDEGROOM
by Jenmay
Summary: What should have happened on Lee & Dee's Wedding Day.
1. Chapter 1

This fic is dedicated to those SO over the Lee/Dee thing!

A couple of things: a) I don't own anything BSG, b) I'm not benefitting financially, c) comments are welcome.

ENJOY!

RUNAWAY BRIDE(GROOM):

A BSG FIC

What should have happened on Lee & Dee's wedding day...

Helo shot a worried look at his commanding officer. He seemed dazed and confused–not a good sign. "Are you okay, Sir?"

_She said she's not married anymore..._

"I'm fine!" Lee responded sharply, then contritely added, "Sorry, Helo. Must be pre-wedding jitters."

_She said she's not married to Sam anymore...Gods! _Their timing was nothing, if not consistent–always rotten.

"We've got about ten minutes, so let's go through the checklist."

_She said she cared for me, even though I belonged to someone else..._

"Ring," Helo hold up the gold band, the one that had once belonged to Lee's mother when she had been married to the Admiral. "Check."

_I don't belong to anybody else...I belong to her..._

"Clean uniform, check"

_I should have said that..."I belong to you..." But no, I'm Lee. Good old responsible Lee..._

"Wedding vow cheat-sheet, check"

_Who was too scared tell his brother he loved his fiancee, and had since the first day he met her..._

"Shined shoes, check."

_Who was too full of guilt to pursue her after Zak's death..._

"Uniform gloves, check."

_Who was too much of a coward prevent Baltar from cutting in during their Colonial Day dance..._

"Fly zipped, check."

_And who called her a slut afterword..._

Helo continued to rattle off, Lee hardly listening at all.

_Gods, I shouldn't have done that. Shouldn't have hit her back. Then, she wouldn't have gone back to Caprica, and would have never met Samuel frakking Anders..._

"Sir?"

Lee realized Helo had been talking directly to him for the past two minutes, with no response from him.

"Sir, are you sure you're okay?"

Lee looked at him–through him. Then, suddenly, he burst out "I've gotta go to the head. I'll be back." He quickly strode out of the room, pursued by his personal demons.

Helo sighed. _I had a feeling this would happen_. He had stepped out of the wardroom for about fifteen minutes to check up on the ceremonial preparations in the observation deck, and was delayed by a nervous Dee. He had assured her that Lee was fine, that his recent coldness was just nerves, and that she only had to wait a few more minutes before he claimed her as his bride. Looking back, her womanly instincts must have been kicking in at that moment, because when he returned to the wardroom, Kara had almost knocked him over running out the hatch, leaving the shell-shocked Commander in her wake.

_Maybe I should have followed him. I should check up on him right now. _Helo didn't relish the idea of interrupting what would be the man's last peaceful moment of the day. _Maybe I'll give him five minutes._

But deep inside, his instincts pricked at him. _Crap! _What was he going to tell the Admiral? _The Admiral would understand. He always does when it comes Apollo and Kara. _It was the talk with Dee that he didn't look forward to–he could see an ugly scene brewing between him and the irate would-be bride. To nobody in particular, he muttered, "Heliopolis, we have a problem..."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing BSG, and am not profiting from it (except for the stimulation of my already overactive imagination). Comments are welcome!

RUNAWAY BRIDE(GROOM): PT 2

What should have happened on Lee & Dee's wedding day...

The two marine guards in the hallway saluted Commander Adama, receiving only a brief nod of acknowledgment before he quickly entered the head.

"Uh oh," muttered the tall, dark-skinned one, nicknamed "Sledgehammer".

Without turning his head or changing his expression, the shorter, stockier redhead with the callsign "Trigger" responded, "'Uh oh' what?".

"He's got The Look."

"What look?"

"The Look of Doom. You know, _The_ Look."

Trigger grinned slightly. "Cold feet?"

"Yep. I've seen that look one too many times."

"Too bad. Dualla is mighty fine."

"Well, I heard that she's got an attitude now that she's marrying up."

"Wasn't she two-timing the President's aide for a while there? Keiko, Keikeeya, something like that?"

"Something like that." Sledgehammer glanced at the head, and then scanned the halls quickly. "I just might win that bottle of Picon whisky after all."

"What? You had a pool running on the Commander?"

"Yep."

"How come I didn't know about it?"

"You were too busy trying to sweet-talk Showboat into giving you a lap dance."

Trigger's jaw twitched. She didn't hit as hard as Starbuck, but she had done her best.

The edges of Sledgehammer's mouth tilted up slightly. "Hey, 'tell you what. I'll bet a couple of Caprican Blend stogies that the Commander turns right instead of left when he leaves the head. Whatcha got?"

"A bottle of Sylvian Skies aftershave."

"Nice. I'm gonna smell pretty."

"I just don't see–"

At that moment, they heard a series of thumps emanating from the head.

22222

_That feels better._

Lee was banging his head against the metal sink, trying to knock some sense into his brain. He had tried splashing water on his face, but that wasn't working. Pain seemed to be the best thing for what ailed him at the moment.

_What the frak am I thinking_? _This is the same bitch that keeps breaking your heart over and over and over again! Look how she rubbed Anders in your face, practically humping him in front of you! And don't even mention the fact that she crawled into your rack when she got the wedding jitters. And then she laughed it off, denied it and married the motherfrakker anyways. She's always breaking the pieces, expecting everything to be okay. And when things are okay, she breaks them again! Frakfrakfrakfrak!_

Finally, he stopped the head-thumping and looked into the mirror, noticing the large bruise forming. _Boy, that gonna be attractive_. He snickered at first, then a burst of uncontrollable laughter erupted from him. He suddenly had the image of walking down the aisle–Dee's knight in shining armor-- with an egg the size of a pyramid ball on his forehead. _The look on Ana's face when she sees me...She'll be horrified! _

That last thought sobered him. _Gods, get a grip_! He stood up straight, staring directly into his own eyes in the mirror. _You don't want to hurt her. She's good for you. She's loyal, smart, attentive in bed, everything you want in a woman. She won't run around on you or break your heart. She'll never hurt or disappoint you_, _and she'll always be there for you, and she'll always watch your back. _He re-buttoned his jacket (noticing that it was fitting a little more snugly than usual), adjusted his ceremonial sash, and combed a few stray hairs back with his fingers before slipping his gloves back on. _You can do this! Focus! Focus on what you want! _He took a deep breath in and turned towards the hatch.

Sledgehammer and Trigger stood at attention as the Commander stood in the doorway of the hatch. Even though their eyes were straight ahead, they heard him mumbling something repeatedly–something that sounded like "Focus on what you want". He then he turned walked down the corridor–to his right. Not to his left, where the wedding festivities were in full swing, but to the right...towards the elevators. When he had gone, the marines turned their eyes towards each other, Sledgehammer smiling broadly

"I'm gonna smell pretty."

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one in BSG and am not profiting from them (well, maybe from the mental image of Lee's towel almost dropping off...but nothing else, I swear!). Comments welcome.

When we last saw our hero, Lee had gotten his head together, and was marching towards what he thinks is his destiny. He is, however marching the wrong way...

RUNAWAY BRIDE(GROOM): PT 3

What should have happened on Lee & Dee's wedding day...

_Focus on what you want! Focus on what you want! _

Back at the Academy, Starbuck (damn the bitch!) used to tease him about how he would repeat things to himself, especially during mock missions. He didn't remember how he got into the habit (his father claimed he did it even as a little boy), but he found that it helped him to concentrate. If his nerves started to get the best of him during an attack run, or when a problem in War College was starting to frustrate him, running a mantra through his head cleared it of all the unwanted junk, and focused it on the goal. Right now his goal was to make it through the wedding with his dignity intact.

_Focus on what you want! Focus on what you want! Focus on what you want!_

His eye caught the nearest hatch number. _Strange, I'm a long way from the observation deck..._That's when he realized that he was going the wrong way.

He could have sworn that he'd turned left instead of right. _Must be nerves_. _Focus on what you want!_ He didn't want to be here, he wanted to get the ceremony over with so he could get on with his life. _Focus on what you want!_ He tried to picture the wedding in his head. He was walking down the aisle, perfectly composed (in spite of the bruise. _I'll just say I ran into the hatch and banged my head–nerves again!_). A few moments later, she would glide towards him dressed in a traditional wedding outfit–a white dress with a knee-length, flaming-red veil-- looking soft and demure. His father would say a few words of wisdom before asking them to repeat after him. He would say his vows without stumbling, and so would she. He would place the ring on her finger, and she would place one on his. He would then lift the fiery veil off her face, brush a wisp of blond hair from her lips, look into her green eyes and kiss her soft, luscious lips...

_Gods! Kara again! This is not good! Focus on what you want!_

Unfortunately, what he wanted was Kara. In spite of everything, his mind, body and soul was screaming for Kara. Hells! While his mind wanted to do right by Ana, his own traitorous feet were taking him towards the elevators, which led to the lower levels of Galactica, which in turn led to the Hanger Bay.

"Wait a minute!" He stopped in his tracks, trying to turn around and walk the other way, but his legs felt like lead, as if the Lorey Gravity Field had been turned up a few notches. _You are not going to run after Kara! Let her go back to that hole they call New Caprica. She deserves to be alone after what she's done to you! She given you nothing but pain...constant, lingering, soul-sucking... delicious pain..._He moaned and covered his face with his hands. _Gods! I'm such a sick puppy. _Unable to move forward or back, started to feel panicky. All he wanted to do was sit in the middle of the floor and pull his knees to his chest, like he used to as a kid when his parents fought like cats and dogs.

_That does it! I'm an adult_, _and an officer of the Colonial Fleet to boot, not an eight year-old child! I've made tougher decisions under worse circumstances. I've been dealing with Cylons, washout pilots, prison riots, terrorists, homicidal and corrupt commanding officers, getting shot at, seeing my father getting shot at, deciding who lives or dies in a fight–I can do this! I can choose Ana. It's not hard. Tactically, it's the best choice. A stable, honest, loyal...not afraid to speak up her mind...even if it's in front of everybody in CIC...even when you lose face..._

A couple of months ago, he had been going over details of supply requisitions to and from New Caprica with his father, Tigh and the other remaining officers of the Pegasus and Galactica, when Dee expressed concerns about loaning vital communication equipment to the settlers. It would have been fine, if he had said "I appreciate your input, Dualla", and if she had accepted it. However she became insistent, yammering over and over again that the remaining fleet needed that equipment more than subsistence farmers and ex-pyramid players _(I wonder why she mentioned pyramid players?)_. It wasn't what she said that made him cringe, it was the way she said it, almost like she was a schoolteacher lecturing a particularly dense student. He had said something to placate her, which made everybody at the table give each other glances. _I didn't put her in her place there and then because I wanted to do it in private._ Unfortunately, he'd put off the discussion that night when they'd had an argument over something else, and she had burst out in tears. After that, it seemed she felt at liberty to take digs at him, here and there. First over requisitions and other assorted business, and then over to more personal, such as "Ensign So-and So didn't get the report done because she dislikes me" and "Why don't you respect my opinions!". All he had wanted to do was to have a smooth-sailing, functional relationship with someone, so he tried to please her more, like spending more time with her instead of at the gym (_no more sexy sparring, that's for sure_). Little by little, he felt dragged down by the tediousness of his existence. When had proposed to her, she had accepted with such unexpected enthusiasm (and energetic sex) that it had caught him off guard, because he had assumed she was as bored with him as he was with her.

All the fire, all the spice of life was gone. They had all gone out when Kara Thrace got married and ran away. And then she came back. Dad had invited her to the wedding without his knowing it ("I had assumed..."), so when Ana started nagging him about how Kara's presence would ruin their special day, he hadn't known what to think. One part of him was still filled with vile, black anger at the thought of her being there, as if nothing had happened; and the other was filled with breathless anticipation. Then, when Kara walked into the wardroom, he felt as if the fire was relit from within. Outwardly, though, he'd been cool and polite, even managing a bit of small talk. She had said that, being her longtime friend, she'd only come to wish him good luck in person before leaving on the next shuttle back ("I don't think your fiancé would appreciate me being there."). For the next ten minutes or so, everything went fine, until he made the mistake of asking the question. "So, how's your husband?" From then on, things went downhill, as she told him the short version how "Starbuck frakked it up again", how the passion of their courtship hadn't translated well into the day-to-day effort of marriage–resulting in an acrimonious divorce, which had been finalized in the recent weeks. Her words were calm and collected, but her eyes told of her desperation, her longing to have him back in her life again. He'd been so stunned by her announcement he had just stared at her, unable to say anything. She'd taken his silence as rejection, so she tearfully wished him and Ana a good life and ran out the hatch, almost taking out a surprised-looking Helo along the way.

He opened he eyes, seeing that he was only a few meters away from the elevators.

Although a good student, he'd never had his father's love of poetry. But the one phrase that had stuck in his head through the years was a line from "The Fall of Icarus":

"_It is useless to dissuade me, Father,_

_For I long for Phoebus' eternal Kiss_.

_If I burn, I will burn with all my heart and soul._

_What do the cold-hearted know of such passion?" _

As if on cue, the nearest elevator door opened. He walked in.

_Time to burn..._

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

In our last episode, Lee finally decided to take his head out of his rear and search the Hanger Bay for what he really wanted.

Meanwhile, at that same moment, Kara ruminates over THAT night...

RUNAWAY BRIDE(GROOM): Pt 4

What should have happened on Lee & Dee's wedding day...

When Kara was a little girl, her father used to call her his "Little Hurricane", because she always seemed to be in constant motion, usually leaving a mess her wake–school books, crayon drawings, broken pencils, jackets, hair ribbons, the occasional broken vase. Often times, when her father sketched her, she would be bouncing in her seat, and would be puzzled when she saw the result. "Daddy, why does my picture look so blurry?" "Because", he would reply, gently stroking her cheek, "I can't keep up with you. You're going too fast, even when you're sitting down."

When Kara Thrace became a grown woman, she was still like a hurricane, still constantly in motion. Flying, frakking, fighting, whatever she could do to keep her demons at bay. But now the messes she left behind were more devastating...

_Gods, why? Why do I always do this? Why do I always act without thinking?_ If Tyrol hadn't already left Galactica with Cally, she would have raided his still in the tool room and drunk herself to oblivion. She had to settle instead for kneeling in a deserted side corridor near the Hanger Bay, crying her eyes out, with no alcohol to dull the sickening pain in her heart. Dark, cramped spaces that weren't Viper cockpits or pilot bunks were generally unappealing (Mom used to lock her up in the hallway closet after breaking her fingers), but she hadn't been able to hold the tears any longer. The relative blackness soothed her as did the cold metal deck under her knees. When she had calmed down enough, she leaned her back against the wall, sprawling her legs in front of her, listening to the steady hum of the ship (_I_ _forgot how much I miss that sound)._ For the first time in...Gods know how long...she had sat down long enough to think clearly.

There were the three people, the Adama men, who had come close to making her slow down enough to think. Warm, fun-loving Zak, who took it upon himself to break down her defenses and open her heart to something more than a one night stand. Next, came the Admiral, who, in spite of being her commanding officer, took the time to draw her out of her "Starbuck" facade, becoming a surrogate father to her in the process. And then there was Lee...

Lee was the scariest one, because he was the one...the only one that could completely crumble her defenses with just one look, one touch. It took Zak almost a year to break her down–it took Lee only a second, the moment she first met him at the Academy, from the moment he had unsmilingly shook her hand at their first simulator battle together. She had expected to wipe the floor with him, but was pleasantly shocked at how well-matched they were in battle. When it was done, they'd crawled out of their respective cockpits, drenched with sweat and shook each other's hand, grinning from ear to ear. At that moment, the air between them had heated up with a sexual tension like nothing either had known before. However, as strong as their mutual attraction was, they both had been emotionally unprepared for it, and ended up joking it away. Lee had suggested they grab a beer at the campus pub, and she agreed. The rest was history...

_Bad history, actually_. True, there were lots of good times-- the two of them hanging around Zak, their misadventures in the local bar scene, jogging with him down Galactica's corridors, nailing him with the spray from a garden hose on Cloud Nine came to mind. However, over time, when he had begun to reach out to her as more than a friend, that's when things had started to go wrong. Unable to cope with the feelings he stirred, Hurricane Kara began to whip out again, throwing debris in his path. _Whoosh! I killed your brother. Slap! I slept with Baltar instead of you. Ding! I became obsessed with a rebel leader. Pow! I shot you. Blam! I tried to frak you in the bunkroom, and was thinking of another man. Whap! I made with out Sam in front of you. _And then came the killing blow.

It was about three nights before her wedding day, when the remaining female pilots aboard Galactica had burst into her office and demanded she come with them to the rec room, where her surprise bachelorette party was underway. At the start, it was a hoot, with lots of drinking (compliments of the Chief, who had brewed a special batch of bootleg for the occasion), stupid party games ("Find a male specialist in the mess hall and ask him to give you his skivvies"), and dancing. They had even stuck an impromptu red veil on her head, complete with plastic flowers and miniature replicas of the male anatomy pinned up and down the material. After a few hours, though, the fun had begun to wear off, and an edge of panic had started to creep in, though she hid it for a while with her customary Starbuck brashness. It got worse as the other women teased her about her "Last Night of Freedom", and about how her husband-to-be was a hunk, almost as handsome as the former C.A.G. ("Come to think of it, they kind of look alike!"). Finally, it had gotten to the point where she was so tense she felt ready to punch someone in the face, but the appearance of Hot Dog and a squadron of male party-crashers provided enough of a distraction for her to slip away. Somehow, she had stumbled her way to the guest quarters where she pounded on a hatch door, until a half-asleep Lee–who had stayed on board after a meeting and a late dinner with his father-- opened it up. Because their friendship had been strained after her engagement, she almost didn't think he would let her in, but the sight of Kara Thrace in a cheesy red veil with penises all over had him holding his sides laughing (he had so little to laugh about these days), and soon, she with him. All that tension between them had, for the moment had vanished, and they were friends again. He cracked a couple of jokes at her expense, before inviting her in for a nightcap.

She had entered that room intending to just to talk to him, to tell him how scared she really was at the prospect of spending the rest of her life with Sam, to admit to him that she missed him–Lee–and their friendship. But, as the old saying went, "The road to Tartarus is paved with good intentions..." One moment, they were talking about the good old days, and the next they were tearing each other's clothes off, showering each other with passionate, bruising kisses. At one point, Lee had stopped what he was doing, poised on top of her, and looked into her eyes. "Kara, if we do this, you're mine. I love you, and I can't share you with anybody else anymore. If you walk out that door and back to him, I'll never speak to you again. Understand?" She must have said yes, because the rest of that night he had set out to prove how much he had wanted her. The sensations of that aborted frak months before were nothing compared to the inferno that had enveloped them both.

The next day, Hurricane Kara left the bunkroom...and nothing was ever the same between them. She'd been torn between her love for her best friend and her guilt over Sam. Guilt had won.

And now she was divorced, alone, and living on a miserable craphole of a rock with nothing to do but survive another day. She needed something else to live for, something to keep from falling into the pit of despair. She sniffled a bit, wiping her nose on her sleeve, and started thinking of her options. A week ago, Roslin had found out about her talent as an artist, and had offered her a position as an art teacher. She knew that showing rug-rats how to finger-paint wouldn't be a permanent solution, but it would be a start. Still, there would be the cold, lonely nights, when all she would have for company would be her heartache, and the memories of those she had hurt. She wouldn't think much about Sam, though. _He's surviving quite nicely with his pregnant girlfriend_. After all they had been through, after the sacrifices she had made–breaking with Lee, dropping her career as a pilot to live with him on New Caprica–she still hadn't been enough for him. So when she'd found her husband in bed with an adoring pyramid groupie, it had been too much for her. Her aggressive demands for a divorce weren't driven by his infidelity, but by the fact that her feelings of guilt over him had costed her everything she held dear.

She sighed. _I gotta get back home. _Well, it wasn't really home, but neither was Galactica anymore. It had been a mistake to come back...to try to reach out to Lee. As usual, she'd said too much, and he had just stood there, cold as ice, not saying a word. She'd ran out of the wardroom and past Helo like a bat out of hell, unable to breathe, choking on her tears.

_Enough of this crap! On your feet, soldier!_ She slowly stood up and looked at her watch. _Shuttle should be leaving in a couple of minutes._ She began to walk towards the light the end of the corridor, feeling numbed to the bone.

She was only a few meters away from the doorof the Hanger Bay, when someone grabbed her left arm and forcefully yanked her back. Acting on instinct, she threw a right hook at her assailant, feeling a jolt up her arm as her fist made contact.

The man in dress uniform rubbed his jaw, grinning, a drop of blood beading on the side of his mouth.

"That's my girl."

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

RUNAWAY BRIDE(GROOM): Pt 5

What should have happened on Lee & Dee's wedding day...

Kara froze where she stood, her jaw agape, like an idiot. She could only stare in disbelief as Lee slowly licked the blood off his lip.

"I see you haven't lost your touch, Starbuck."

A million things she wanted to say-- like "What are you doing here?" and "You're the damn most beautiful sight I've ever seen"--they were stuck in her throat like a log jam. The only thing she was able to say was "Uh..."

It was a damn rare thing, to see Kara at a loss for words. _That's good. That's very good_. A sexy, wolf-like smile crept onto his face. "But it seems you've lost your tongue." He closed the distance between them, grabbed onto her face with both hands and pulled her into rough but gentle kiss

She didn't respond for a moment, but little by little, as the shock wore off, he felt her body melt into his, her mouth softening with each dizzying brush of his lips. _Oh Gods!_ _So good! _He heard her breath quicken as he found her errant tongue, joining it with his own. When he felt her hands slipping down his back and onto his rear, hot blood rushed from head to toe, washing away the ice water that had been stagnating in his veins. _Oh my Gods! _An eternity seemed to pass before the need for air forced him to pull away. When Kara's eyes finally fluttered open, her first coherent words were, "What happened to you?", touching the large bump on his forehead.

"Ow! I've been banging my head against the sink, trying to get you off my mind."

"Did it work?", she asked softly, with just a small hint of her trademark smirk on her face.

"No, damn you! It just made it clear that you're stuck in there permanently!"

"Oh Lee, I'm so–"

"No! No more 'sorrys!'" He tugged impatiently at the tips of his blood-stained left glove with his teeth, before yanking it off and tossing it aside. "I'm sick of 'sorrys'!" He whipped off the other glove. "You know what sick of even more? Living without you. I'm constantly pissed off at you when I'm with you, but I'm dead inside without." His ceremonial sash joined his gloves on the deck. "I'm the Commander of the Pegasus, with a thousand men and women under my command who have no absolutely no idea just how frakking insane their C.O. is right now, because he's trying to regain a piece of his heart." The familiar look of wanting to run away was flickering in Kara's eyes, but he could tell she was willing herself to really listen to him, to not–for once– hide from what they felt. Lee knew that it was taking all her strength to do that for him, so he quietly slipped one hand into hers, while the other cupped her chin. "Why did you come back, Kara? Was it really to wish me well? Did you really want me to be happy with somebody I didn't love?"

Kara stood for a moment, closing her eyes, willing herself to say the things she wanted to say. When she opened them, she gazed directly into him, squeezing his hand. "When I got the invitation from your dad, I thought that maybe, you might have forgiven me a little."

"Actually, he went over my head. I had no idea until Ana told me."

"Figures. So I came, knowing I couldn't bear to watch you give yourself to her–"

"I know the feeling."

Kara faltered for a second at that comment, but continued, "So I only planned to stop by and see you beforehand. I didn't mean to break down like that. Just seeing you reminded me of how much I loved you, and how much I frakked up our friendship, and our chance at becoming something more. I didn't come intending to get a second–" She gave a soft snort. "–A hundredth chance..."

His hand slid from her chin to her other hand. "Well, you've got it."

The smile she gave him was one that he'd never seen before. Not a Starbuck smile. Not the cocky "I win!" triad smile, or the hard one she gave him when she was biting her tongue. It was...different, hard to describe. _Loved? Open-hearted? That's it. Open-hearted..._

"I want to make one thing clear though, Kara." He pulled her hands to his lips and kissed them. "If you take off on me again...if you even dare try to hide from me, I swear I will hunt you down myself and strangle you with my bare hands."

The Starbuck smile made it's reappearance. "I'd like to see you try, Sir."

"Oh? Are you going to start calling me that again? 'Cause it sounds good coming from you."

"As if!"

"I can think of ways of making you say 'Sir'..." His lips made a trail down her neck.

"Dream on.", she riposted, but was only half into it, as he was starting to hit the sweet spot. _Ooooh, he remembered... _

"Say 'Yes, Sir.'" His breath was lingering there, making her nipples start to stand on end.

"You wish."

"Say it." The sensation of a gentle bite caused her knees to buckle.

"Nice try–Oh!"

"Say it." Alternating a brush of his clever tongue with ghostly kiss.

"Gods!"

"Say it!" Another not so gentle bite. A tremor shooting straight down to her pelvic region.

"Oh, Gods!".

"Say it!"

"OOOOOOHHHH LEE!"

"Nice, but not what I ordered! Say it now, Captain!"

Her mind and mouth couldn't connect for a second, as she was experiencing one of the most intense orgasms in her life.

"UH! OH! OH! Ooohhhhh...Mmmm...Yessss, Sssir."

He held her close as she came down from her high, feeling that missing piece of his heart had, finally, clicked back into place. He was also feeling something else–a tightness in his groin.

Kara took notice. She wanted to return the favor, to make him scream as loudly as she had, but something was bugging her. She had to ask, if only to seal the deal.

"Lee, I know you've made your feelings, ah, very clear, but before we take this further, I gotta ask. Do you really want to do this to Dee?"

His lovely, intense blue eyes bore into hers for a moment, until he huskily spoke the three words she most wanted to hear.

"Frak the bitch!"

55555

At that very moment, Sledgehammer was relating to Trigger how he was going to impress Specialist Tregonis on their next date ("She loves Sylvian Skies. Thanks, buddy."), when Major Agathon strode towards them. They saluted sharply before Helo got to point and turned to Trigger. "Have you seen Commander Adama, Soldier?"

"Yes, Sir! He came by about fifteen minutes ago to use the head. Stayed in there for a while, and then left."

"Did you see where he went?"

"He went in the direction of the elevators, Sir."

_Shit! _"Did he seem...odd?"

"Now that you mentioned it, Sir, he was muttering something to himself as he was leaving."

"What was it?"

"Uh, something about getting what he wanted."

"It was 'Focus on what you want", Sir", Sledgehammer contributed.

_Oh, Gods, no! _Apollo may have been ready to walk down the aisle with Dee, but he knew all too well that what he really wanted was a certain blonde pilot, who was most likely waiting for a shuttle in the Hanger Bay.

"You!" he pointed to Sledgehammer. "Come with me to the Hanger Bay. You!", directing his attention at Trigger, "You'll relay a message from me to the Admiral in the Observation Deck."

Sledgehammer mentally shook his head at Trigger. _The poor bastard. _


	6. Chapter 6

RUNAWAY BRIDE(GROOM): Pt 6

What should have happened on Lee & Dee's wedding day...

"I so hate weddings", muttered Gaius Baltar, President of the Colonies. They're so boring, so hypocritical". He surveyed his surroundings from his first row seat with mild disdain. The Observation Deck–the only room aboard Galactica that had public access to a view of outside space– was festooned with colorful flower displays ( the lilies and roses specially grown in the hydroponics bay), ribbons, drapery, and other assorted matrimonial paraphernalia. "I never understood why two people want to put themselves up like a pair of show ponies, just to prance up and down the aisle for the benefit of people who really only there for the free food and booze." The room was starting to get stuffy, with the two dozen people crammed on either side of the narrow aisle, all breathing the same stale air. "Isn't there any air conditioning in here? When will this torture end?"

A soft, slender white hand slid onto his right shoulder. "Poor Gaius. A hapless victim of protocol."

Baltar turned his head slightly to see Six standing next to him. She was wearing one of his favorites–a pale, shimmery blue satin number with spaghetti straps that hugged her curves like paint.

"Remember, as much as you despise these occasions, it's better to keep your friends–"

"--Close and your enemies closer. I know. Diplomacy is a bugger. I don't know why I even bother. I'm the President, for God's sake."

"Don't take His name in vain, Gaius," warned Six. "It's disrespectful."

"Sorry." He really wasn't, but unless he wanted everybody in the room to see their President clenching his balls in agony, he'd rather take the high road. "It's just that this charade should have started–" he looked at his watch, "Twenty minutes ago. I wonder what so important that we have to wait for so long!"

"I wonder..." Six purred, smiling a smile like the cat that ate the canary. She was up to something, but he didn't ask her what. She'd probably say "It's God's plan" or some other drabble, so he settled instead for turning in his seat to look at the other guests. They were mostly higher-ranked crew members from both battlestars. D'Anna Biers was in the back–the lone member of the press allowed into the ceremony–checking her camera for the umpteenth time. The Tighs were in the front row on the side opposite him, with the father of the groom standing by them, chatting with Saul. The Galactica's X.O. was looking distinctively uncomfortable in his dress uniform and in need of a drink. _He probably has ambrosia on him somewhere. _He was tempted to demand it from him. Ellen was ignoring the two men, giving him the "come-hither-and-frak-me-in-the-supply-closet" look. _Ugh! Used goods! _He didn't see another attractive female in the bunch (none that weren't in his head, that is). There was a time in his life–before the end of the worlds–when he could solve his wedding ennui problem by persuading a pretty bridesmaid to duck into a toilet stall with him for a quick shag. Hells, he'd even had the bride on a couple of occasions, just minutes before she traipsed down the aisle to her clueless husband. He smiled at the recollection. He considered it his own personal wedding tradition...

"Walking down Memory Lane, Gaius?"

Jolted from his reverie, Baltar sighed. "Well, there's not much else to do. They should have thought of having some entertainment before the wedding. Would it have hurt them to have had at least a couple of Scorpian belly dancers?"

"Have no fear," whispered Six, sliding onto his lap. "I think the entertainment's about to begin...

"What? Three Scorpian belly dancers?

"In five...

"What about four Scor–"

"Shhh! (pressing a finger onto his lips)–three, two one."

At that moment, the large door to the Observation Deck slid open. Some unseen hand saw it as a cue to turn on the canned wedding music. All heads turned, expecting to see the handsome Commander Lee Adama walking down the aisle, with the steadfast X.O. of the Pegasus, Major Karl Agathon, behind him. Instead, they were treated to an embarrassed-looking marine, pale skin turning red as his hair under the scrutiny. Knowing his presence didn't bode well, the stone-faced Admiral waved the soldier to some closer. The murmuring started as the soldier marched towards Adama and whispered into his ear. After a moment, the Admiral's eyebrows went straight up.

"Are you sure, Soldier?"

"Positive, Sir! Sledgehammer and I saw him walking towards the elevators. Major Agathon thinks he may have been trying to..."

At that moment, the murmuring and the cheesy music got loud enough to block out whatever the soldier was saying.

"What the bloody hell did he say? I didn't catch that last part! For the sake of the Gods, turn down that awful noise! Did someone die? Did the bride suddenly become ugly?"

"Oh I think you know what's happened, Gaius." Six wiggled on his lap.

At first, Baltar gave her a pissed off, annoyed look...and then the pieces of information began to click in his mind. A sly grin began to curl the edges of his mouth. "You mean to tell me...that big, brave Commander Adama's..."

"A runaway bridegroom!" She was holding a hand to her mouth, hiding a charming giggle.

Baltar himself began to chuckle at the thought. Spit-and-polish, tight-assed, do-gooder Lee Adama, son of the legendary Admiral William Adama, Commander of the fleet, fleeing the scene like a scared little girl? Just the thought filled him with wicked glee.

"And it gets better", Six pointed to the door, the music automatically swelling into the Wedding March. "Here comes the bride!"

Like a furious white candle ablaze, Lieutenant Anastasia "Dee" Dualla stomped down the aisle, struggling to tug the red veil away from her face, cursing as she tripped over the hem of her strapless sheath dress (_I guess all the decent tailors are planet-side_, he thought snidely). As she stalked towards the Admiral, he could see that her coffee-colored features flushed. "Admiral, is there something wrong? What's this marine doing here? Where's Lee?" The Admiral, gently, but firmly, put an arm around her shoulders and walked her towards the large bay window filled with twinkling stars, turning their backs to the guests. Baltar could just make out the sound of his gravelly voice as he gave his would-be daughter-in-law the bad news. For a few seconds, she seemed quiet. Baltar was a little disappointed. She actually seemed to be taking it--

"WHAT! " Dee's voice ricocheted off the window, causing a few heads to turn in their direction. "WHAT HAPPENED!" The Admiral mumbled something about keeping her voice down, but she continued. "WHY!" Her normally doe-like features hardened, "It's her, isn't it Admiral! Why did you have to invite her! You knew what she did to him!"

"She's family–"

"So am I!" Her jade-green eyes flashed him a warning. "You knew", she hissed, her rage ramping up slowly. "You knew this was going to happen! You invited her on purpose so that she could be your daughter!"

"I did no such thing," the Admiral said incredulously.

"You never did like the idea of Lee and I, did you?"

"For the last time, keep your voice–"

Dee ignored him, stomping towards the marine ("Why does she have to tromp around like that?" whispered Baltar to Six, who replied, "Her shoes are a size too big! I guess the decent shoemakers are planet-side, too!"). "Soldier! What is your name?"

In spite of her petite size, the scope of Dualla's rage made the soldier look distinctly small. "Uh, Corporal Ryan Simmonds, Sir!"

Balter heard one of the Pegasus crew members behind him whisper to his seat-mate, "Hey! Half-box of caramels she throws a punch!"

"Corporal Simmonds, was the Commander acting strangely?"

"Yes, Sir, he–"

"Was he acting out of character?"

"Yes–"

She grabbed onto his vest with both hands. "Then why didn't you say something?"

"Take it easy, Ana!" The Admiral looked like he was starting to get fed up.

"Well, we–"

She shook him as hard has she could, adrenaline kicking in. "When you saw him walking the wrong way, why didn't you stop him!"

"Dee, I said that will be all!" repeated Adama, his voice sterner, his craggy face hardening.

"Sir! He's the Commanding–"

"–Officer! Which means you have a responsibility to his safety and well being!"

"Unhand that man, Dualla!". The Admiral was reaching the breaking point...

"I'm not done with him yet!" She turned back to the hapless corporal. "WHY DIDN'T YOU STOP HIM!"

"I SAID THAT IS ENOUGH, LIEUTENANT!" boomed the Admiral.

Dee instantly froze, her hands still on the soldier. The entire room went silent–with only the stupid canned music to break the tension.

"Take your hands off him right now and get a grip on yourself! And somebody please, TURN THE FRAKKING MUSIC OFF!"

As the music went dead, the President waited anxiously for the next circus act. _Now, I can finally hear properly!_

As her hands slipped off the marine, she turned to the Admiral. "But we don't know where–"

"We know enough."

"But–"

"Look, in spite of what you think, you're a good, steady woman, who would have been a solid addition to my family. However, I didn't expect my son to abandon his duty in this manner. I'm as appalled as you are. However, hollering at the top of your lungs is not helping the situation any."

Dee tried to salvage her dignity, trying to stand tall. "Admiral, I'm going to lead a search–"

"No you will not."

"SIR! THIS IS MY HUSBAND YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT! I WILL NOT STAND HERE AND LET YOU,OR ANYBODY STOP ME FROM STRANGLING THAT BITCH!"

Adama interrupted her in a tone that brooked no insolence.. "Discipline might be more relaxed, now that we've ditched the Cylons, but you are still an officer of the Colonial Fleet! Act like one!"

He turned to the soldier. "Corporal!"

"Yes, Sir!"

"Escort Lieutenant Dualla to her quarters."

Dualla's jaw dropped for a second, before interjected, "But Sir, is that nec–"

The Old Man gave her "The Stare". "It's either that, or the brig."

Gaius could tell she wanted to say more, but realized that she had finally gone too far. She quickly turned to head for the door, only to have her slightly oversized shoe catch onto the hem of her dress. Wide-eyed, she fell forward, grabbing onto Corporal Simmonds for balance. Unfortunately, the poor man had been taking a step back to make room for her, and lost his equilibrium, falling backwards onto a flower display. Down they went like a pack of dominoes–thunk, thunk, thunk! In her struggle to raise herself up, the bodice of her stylish dress slid down, treating the marine to a view that only the Commander and Billy Keikeya had the privilege of seeing (_Well, maybe not Billy. He had been such a virgin_). At that point, he heard another thunk...Six had fallen off his lap and was literally rolling on the ground laughing. Several real human beings were in various stages of trying to control their mirth, with varying success. He, himself, made no bones about how funny the whole thing was–he was holding his sides, feeling the buttons on his oxford shirt shirt getting ready to pop from his own hilarity. Even the Tighs were leaning into each other, with tears coming out of their eyes. And in the middle of it all, the poor, mortified bride could only pull up her dress with as much dignity as she could muster, kick off the offending shoes, and run out as fast as she could, trailed by her beet-red escort.

Adama watched her progress, then focused his attention on back row. "And if you don't want to end up in the brig yourself, Ms. Biers, I suggest you turn off that camera right now!"

D'Anna grinned smugly as she slung the camera off her shoulder, unrepentant to the last. _Bloody hells! She caught the whole thing! The Old Bugger will probably have that tape destroyed, but what a wedding video! I wonder if I could buy it off of her?_

The Admiral then breathed a sigh of relief, muttering something like "He was too soft on her." He straightened his jacket, and then turned to his audience. "Well, as you can see, the ceremony has been...delayed..."

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As the search for Lee Adama and Kara Thrace began, the wedding guests milled about the hallways, replaying the scene, glancing around quickly to check if the Admiral was around. Everybody seemed to have an opinion.

"They seemed to be a lovely couple."

"I certainly didn't see this coming."

"I did!"

"I think he got the right idea by running away! She was always trying to cut of off the Commander's balls!"

"It's too bad she ended up like that. She used to be a really sweet, intelligent girl."

"I think he's a cad!"

"Boy, the Admiral was pissed!"

"Pint of whisky he's hiding on the Rising Star with Starbuck! With everybody on the planet, there are going to be a lot of empty bedrooms to choose from."

The President took it all in stride. He was in a chipper mood, more so than he had any right to be. He felt his invisible helpmate slide her arm through his, walking in time to his casual pace. "I must say, it's such a joy to see the High-And-Mighty Adama family knocked down a peg or two. It was better than a fleet of Scorpian belly dancers!"

They passed the Tighs, who were each holding up a flask each of Gods-knows-what.

"Ellen, I just wanted to say, thank you for not giving me children!"

"Anytime, Saul!" They clinked their flasks together in a toast, and then knocked back the elixer, chuckling to themselves.

In another corner, D'Anna Biers was talking into what seemed to be a voice recorder. _Ah, just the woman I'm looking for..._

"...And another thing, Four. You've got competition again, so get off your ass and get the brat ready, pronto–" As she saw Baltar approaching, she quickly tucked the device away. "Ah, just making some notes. Can I help you, Mr. President?"

"Oh, nothing. I was wondering–"

"Excuse me," D'Anna interrupted, slinging her camera onto her shoulder again. "Before I forget, would you like to give me an official comment on this occasion?"

"Certainly, D'Anna, I would be delighted." He straightened his tie, combed his hair back with his fingers. "Whenever you're ready."

"Mr President," she began, "What are your feelings regarding this startling turn of events?"

"Well, Ms. Biers, all I have to say is–This is the best bloody wedding I've ever been to!"


	7. Chapter 7

RUNAWAY BRIDE(GROOM): Pt 7

What should have happened on Lee & Dee's wedding day...

As the remaining crew aboard the Galactica began the search for the Pegasus' wayward C.O., a Raptor was silently gliding down towards the upper atmosphere of New Caprica...

"So what do you think?"

"About what?"

"About what? Didn't you hear?"

_Damn, I always miss the good stuff!_ "No."

"Oh shoot! That's right, you left just before the alert went out!" Sati was such a gossip, but Margaret Edmonson, a.k.a. Racetrack, former Raptor pilot for the Galactica, missed hearing his banter. They had become friends when the fleet had still been on the run, trading rumors over the wire when the activity in C.I.C. was dead. The torrid tales of love triangles and rivalries among the officers and pilots were welcome distractions to an otherwise boring midnight C.A.P. Nowadays, whenever she made her weekly delivery runs to and from Galactica, she always looked forward to catching up with the latest dirt.

"All right, dammit! Spill it!"

Sati lowered his voice. "The Commander just ditched the bride not a half-hour ago!"

"No!"

"Yes."

"No way!"

"Yes, way!" She could tell from his tone that the details were going to be juicy. " And guess who they say he's run off with?"

"Hmmm...could it beeeeeee Starbuck?"

"How did you know?"

"Oh, just the fact that they've been sniffing and growling around each other like a couple of dogs for as long as I've known them"

"That's right! He was your C.A.G. before he got promoted. You used to tell me about their frak/fights."

Meg shook her head. Even the most casual observer who witnessed the pair's many brawls could see that there had been a sexual element to each punishing blow.

"Yeah. Besides, I heard the Old Man invited her to the wedding. Boy, that was a recipe for disaster!"

"I wonder if that was an act of sabotage on his part?"

"Maybe." _Even the Old Man's gotta know about those two..._

"I have to say, I'm thoroughly unsurprised. The way Dee used to scree–cough, ahem! Raptor Four-Twenty, have you had visual contact with Commander Adama or Kara Thrace?"

Meg knew that Sati's sudden return to professionalism signaled the arrival of the Admiral in C.I.C., so she responded in kind. "That's a negative, Galactica. I'm not carrying any passengers, just a heap of communication equipment to the Delos landing strip."

"Roger that, Raptor Four-Twenty. Have a safe trip down. Galactica out."

"Thank you, Galactica. Out."

As she was signing off, she heard what she thought might be light scratching coming from the back of the Raptor. _Ew! Rats!_ Of all the other life forms that could have been saved from the Colonies, the only one that had been smart enough to jump onto the fleeing ships was the one that she hated the most . _Ugh! Why couldn't it have been kitty cats or something. Ponies, even..._A sudden image of a petite equine clopping daintily down the corridors of Galactica came to mind. _Oh, Gods! I must be bored out of my skull. _It wasn't for lack of anything to do. Ever since she and her team had accidentally discovered New Caprica on the way to the Old, she'd been busy surveying, pitching tents, digging ditches, and piloting supply runs like this. _I just wish I'd found someplace warmer._

The scratching in back had gotten louder, and she thought she heard a sound–the low murmur of a voice. _Kids!_ She'd occasionally find an adventurous munchkin or two in the Raptor who snuck on for a little joyride. "Hey! I can hear you!" The voices–there was more than one–got a little louder, a little–deeper. _Uh oh. They don't sound like kids to me..._" Hey! Come on out, right now before I kick your asses!"

She turned her head towards the back, just in time to see the lid of the larger crate fling open, and a familiar blonde head pop up.

"Hiya, 'Track! I'd like to see you try!"

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Back aboard the Galactica, a knot of about twenty marines surrounded the Sergeant."Squad!"

"YES, SIR!" they shouted in unison.

"As you might have heard, Commander Adama has gone A.W.O.L. from his wedding–"

A snicker bubbled from the corps. The Sergeant whipped around and faced off the offender.

"Is there something you'd like to share, Dirtbag?"

"No, Sir!"

He got into the soldier's face. "Do you think it's funny that your Commanding Officer is missing!"

"No, Sir."

"I can't hear you!"

"No, Sir!"

The Sergeant glared at Dirtbag for a moment before turning back around to continue their briefing. "It is unknown if he left willingly or under duress. It is also unknown whether or not he is still on board. It is, however, suspected that he may be in the company of one Kara Thrace, the former C.A.G. of this ship. Your mission is to find the Commander, assess the situation, and bring him back to C.I.C. You will pair up and search the ship, starting with the Hanger Bay, and work upwards. Gangway, Butch!"

"Yes, Sir!"

"Start searching the Hanger Bay."

"Yes, Sir!"

"Popgun, Dirtbag!"

"Yes, Sir!"

"Seach the main engineering levels."

"Yes, Sir!"

The hatch to the Hanger Bay slid open, revealing Trigger, his eyes glazed, like he'd traded shells with a fleet of Toasters.

"Trigger! Pair up with Sledgehammer and search the bunk levels."

"Yes, Sir!" Trigger belted automatically.

As the Master Sergeant barked out the rest of his orders, Sledgehammer approached Trigger. "What happened?"

The young soldier kept his eyes locked forward, his mouth into a stoic, thin line. "Did you win that bottle of whisky?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"'Cause when this is over, I'll need at least half of that to forget today."

"That bad, huh?"

"That bad."

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"'Buck! What the frak are you doing there?" Racetrack was alternating keeping her eyes on the re-entry, and looking over her shoulder at her unexpected passenger.

"Oh, just hitching a ride. Sorry about the equipment. We had to think fast, so we dumped what we could in the–"

"Wait a minute! 'We'! You mean the Commander's with you!"

"Yeah, he's-- Ow! Lee! Stop kicking me!"

Another familiar head popped up.

"My leg's falling asleep! Racetrack, how long 'til we reach the surface?"

"Uh, it'll be about twenty minutes before we land in Delos..Do you know that everybody aboard Galactica's looking for you guys?"

"We heard. Why do you think we hopped onto your Raptor?", quipped Starbuck. "True, we could have caught the shuttle to New Caprica Town, but–"

"That's where they'll look first", continued Lee. "And there are a lot more hiding places in Delos."

Racetrack knew that the settlement area known as Delos was near several caves, and a large, primordial forest. She'd also heard that Starbuck had made friends with several of the residents, so they could probably hole up there and nobody would find them.

"That's my Lee. Ever the tactician."

"'My Lee'", he murmured, rolling the sound of those two words slowly on his tongue. It was almost like he was tasting something unexpected and wonderful. "'My Lee'. Mmmm, I like the sound of that." The sound of a light kiss against skin. "It almost sounds nicer than when I made you scream back there."

_Whaaat!_

A girlish giggle erupted from the back.

_The last time I heard her giggle like that was whenever she was about to frak Anders...Oh crap!_

Starbuck's voice lowered a notch, turning into a husky growl. "Oh, if you thought that sounded good..I know what sounds better." The sound of a zipper echoed off the bulkhead. "Making you scream."

_Oh, Gods! Not this! _It was just like when she was seventeen, when she and her best friend double-dated one Saturday night. She'd been trying to carry an awkward conversation with her blind date in the front seat of the car, while Cindy was busy trying to lose her virginity in the back. At least their excuse was that they'd been stupid kids...These were–

The ship started to shake–signaling its entry into the ionosphere. Racetrack's eyes immediately snapped ahead, her hands gripping the controls. _Dammit! I need all the concentration I can get!_

"Starbuck! Apollo! I'm busy trying to pilot this tub! Could you, hold off until we reach Delos?"

Kara initially seemed to listen. "Uh, Lee, we'd better wait a bit."

A pause.

"Wait a bit? WAIT A BIT!"

"Uh, Lee, it is kinda rude–"

"RUDE! Rude is not finishing what you started!"

"Lee, control yourself for a sec–"

"Lee says FRAK CONTROL! Lee's always having to control himself! Lee is always reigning himself around his father, around his crew, and especially around you! Ohhh, you don't know just how much Lee has to control himself around you, ever since they day he met you." Over the din of reentry, she heard what she thought sounded like pebbles hitting the bulkhead.

"Shit, Lee! That was my best shir–ohhh!"

"After that simulator run, all Lee wanted to do was rip off your flight suit and frak you senseless in the cockpit."

"Aaaahhh...wouldn't the nuggets have...oooooh...gotten... a show?"

"It's not like it's something they hadn't just seen. We always frak when we fly, don't we, Kara."

"Uh, guys?"_Dammit! _If Racetrack hadn't been turned on, she would have been furious. "Guys? Excuse me!"

"You're not the only one dealing with control, Lee...After that simulator run, when you were drinking that beer, all I wanted to do was straddle you and lick the foam off your lips–"

"Sirs?"

"–And ride you like we were doing Hephaestus' Gorge all over again."

"You like it rough, don't you?"

"Sirs!"

"Ever since then, I've always wondered what would have happened if we'd skipped the bar and went straight to my place in Delphi.."

"I guarantee, you wouldn't have been able to walk straight for days–"

"Please, will you two just stop! Just stop it! Just wait for twenty more Gods' damn--"

"SHUT YOUR HOLE AND FLY, EDMONSON!" roared Lee. "That's an order!"

"But I'm no longer in the–"

"And if you don't, I'll kick your ass myself!" added Starbuck.

And so, for the next twenty minutes or so, Racetrack was subjected to the moans and groans of her former C.A.G.s going at each other like a feeding frenzy.

_Aw crap. Well, at least it'll make a good story to tell Sati next week..._A pair of B.D.U. briefs sailed through the air and landed on top of her head. For a second, before quickly whipping it off, she smelled a hot, sweaty, musky maleness to it. _Hmm_, _I wonder what Hot Dog's doing tonight..._

_TBC_


	8. Chapter 8

RUNAWAY BRIDE(GROOM): Pt 8

The aftermath of what should have been Lee & Dee's wedding day...

Two weeks later...

There was calm, almost deathly stillness at night, a sharp contrast to the hustle and grind of the day. As the constant rain pitter-pattered onto the sea of tent roofs, the most of the multitudes who toiled day in and day out to make New Caprica a home were asleep in their beds, exhausted, dreaming of the lives and loved ones they once had. The only people awake and out at that hour were young couples sneaking away for an hour of bliss, thieves scanning for carelessly placed items outside the tents, and the men who might have been called a police force.

The third was what she wanted to avoid the most. Most of them had been Zarek's fellow inmates aboard the "Astral Queen", who had transferred their allegiances to Baltar when he became president. Although one could occasionally bribe them, there would have been no guarantee they wouldn't have held her for questioning. She knew for a fact that her successor still kept an eye on her, having grown paranoid of his enemies–both real and imaginary. For now, he was just acting like a corrupt eccentric, hoarding ambrosia and women, ignoring the real problems. The chill in her gut told her, though, that someday, something would tip the balance of his already precarious sanity towards something far worse... She hoped she was wrong, but, so far, her instinct had been correct. Which was why she had taken the precaution of arriving at the rendevous point a few hours ahead of schedule, making sure that she wasn't followed along the way.

As she sat in the dimly lit cabin of the "Leda's Dream", Laura Roslin, former President of the Twelve looked at her surroundings. The former space yacht's luxurious, wood and chrome- paneled interior contrasted greatly with her own shabby little tent a mile away. She sighed as she sat back in the cushy leather chair, stretching her legs out and kicking off her shoes like she used to back on Colonial one. It was reminiscent of the days when she used to walk barefoot around her office after a long day, before settling down on the couch with Billy, who usually had a cup of herbal tea to help her wind down. He'd said that it always helped his mother on the nights when her insomnia plagued her. She suddenly felt a sharp longing such a simple comfort as tea and sympathy. _I never in would have thought a million years I would have considered that place home...And now it's in the hands of careless madman. _She fought the urge to curl up and take a catnap_. No time for sleep_,

She looked at her watch. _It's almost time. Better get up before I'm permanently glued into this lovely chair. _Laura managed to tear herself away and walked towards the front of the yacht. As she entered the cockpit, she noticed that her friend had been thoughtful enough to cover the cockpit windows so as to block out the silvery blue glow of the communication panel from the outside. She sat down in the co-pilot's chair, checked her watch again, and then flipped a few switches on the communication panel. _One minute..._She felt a little like a teenage girl, sneaking in a forbidden late night phone call to her boyfriend...

_0200..._It was time. She entered the frequency (the way her friend had taught her how), and waited for contact. A few seconds later, a warm, gravelly voice came online.

"Is that you Laura?"

"Yes, it is. How are you Bill."

"I've been better. And you?"

"I've been worse, especially at two o'clock in the morning."

"I'm sorry about that. I didn't want to chance anybody overhearing us, either up here or down there."

"Mmm. I thought this might be something more than a social call."

"I've heard rumors about Baltar's men monitoring all transmissions around the clock."

"Well, I know for a fact that his wiretap man is busy entertaining a friend tonight."

"And how do you know that?"

"Oh, I have my sources..."

"I bet you do."

Another thing she'd missed about Colonial One–having her late night meetings with Bill Adama. She could see him now, in her mind's eye, sitting on her couch, his uniform jacket half-way open, talking late into the night about politics and the business of command, poetry, and sometimes about more personal matters. There were times, listening to the rumble of his voice, feeling his solid, warm presence, that she wished that they had gotten more...personal. Sometimes, when he'd looked at her, she had gotten the feeling he felt the same.

"Well, as much as I miss the sound of your voice, Bill, I know you're not calling because you miss me."

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_I miss you more than you think. _

Lying in his bunk aboard Galactica, the smoke from his unfiltered cigarette curling around him, Bill Adama listened to the low, female voice at the other end of the phone line. When she was President, he used to note that she had different voices for different occasions. She had the soft, but determined one that she used on him, when she, as Secretary of Education, had tried to persuade him to network the computers on Galactica for the benefit of visitors. There was the clear, concise one that she used for political speeches. The hard, resolute tone came out when she made the tough decisions. She had a motherly one when she was talking to Billy. But the voice that he missed the most was the one they used when they had been alone together. He could see her now, reclining on his couch after a long day of arguing with the Gemenese delegation, her shoes and jacket carelessly tossed aside, with a glass of ambrosia that he usually kept in reserve for days like those. He remembered how feminine she looked, with her long legs stretched out, her auburn hair brushed across her shoulders, the her blouse opened just enough to see a sliver of cleavage. Sometimes, he was tempted to just walk over to her and...well, she was the President, so he never went that far, although, there were moments (maybe he had been imagining it) when he had the impression that she wouldn't have minded. _Maybe I should have taken the lead of my own son._

"Actually, I do miss you (_Did I say that?_), but yes, I've got a favor to ask of you. It calls for some discretion, though."

"Go on."

"You might have heard that my son took off with Starbuck just before his wedding..."

He thought he heard a delicate snort on the other end.

"I heard. I've even seen a couple of snippets on the public news feed. Baltar, apparently, plays the video over and over again for kicks."

"Son of a --I should have ripped that camera out of D'Anna Biers' hands when I had the chance, but I had other things on my mind."

"Well, I have to say that the Lords of Kobol have a wonderful sense of karma."

"What's that?"

"The bride got publicly dumped without so much as a by-your-leave."

The bitterness was still there.

"You still haven't forgiven her for Billy, have you?"

"No."

"Are you still angry at Lee?"

Silence.

"Yes and no. He was partially responsible for what happened, but I don't think he meant to hurt him. I don't know if he even knew they were still dating. Did you?"

"I don't know. We've never discussed that aspect of his life." He took another drag from his cigarette. "You know, in the past year-and-a-half, we've been closer than we've been in decades, and yet in some ways, we're light-years apart. We didn't see each other every day, but when we did, I got the sense he was just going through the motions."

"So you decided to shake things up by inviting Kara Thrace to the wedding?"

"I wouldn't put it that way."

"I heard that they had a falling out, bad enough so that they didn't speak to each other for months. And, most certainly, she wouldn't had wanted her there. So, did you really want to sabotage his wedding?

He was about to say no, but..."Maybe. I don't know. What I do know is that I love Starbuck like a daughter, and I've missed her. Call me a selfish old bastard. I thought the wedding was a perfect excuse for her to see her again."

"But you still knew what could have happened."

Bill sat up, setting his cigarette down, rubbing his forehead, as if trying to collect his thoughts.

"It's not that I disapproved of Dee herself..."

"Just her relationship with your son."

He paused for a moment, reaching for a thought that had been in the back of his mind since the whole thing started.

"Maybe it was that we pulled her in too close, too soon."

"Excuse me?"

"She used to be sane, someone you could lean on. I felt that from the first moment I met her."

"Are you saying...?"

"What I'm saying that she became a kind of confidant to me." He pulled the cigarette back towards his lips, thinking of how he could word this. "There were very few people I could talk to. There was really no need before the worlds ended, but afterwords, there were things bottled up that I needed to let out. There was Saul, of course, but there were times that I knew he couldn't handle it, especially after Ellen came back into his life."

"And he would tell her everything, and she would use it against you somehow."

"So I started talking to Dee. She was a good listener."

"So what did you 'talk' to her about."

He didn't like the sound of that.

"The pressures of command, my hopes, fears...You know, after you and Lee escaped from the brig and fled to Kobol, I was so enraged, I had all but decided to let you guys rot. Dee was the one to persuaded me to put my personal feelings aside and put the fleet back together.

A pause. "Really?"

"You sound surprised."

"It's just...I never knew about that."

"I never really told anybody before why I changed my mind, so, you're the first."

"It certainly puts things in a different light."

"Anyways, one thing I used to talk to her a lot was about Lee. I'm thinking that's how it started."

"So you think that, because she saw Lee's and your vulnerable sides, she felt she could take liberties with you both? Is that your theory?" Her voice was starting to sound strained.

"I–"

"Look, I'm sorry, Bill. Can we stop talking about her and move onto something more neutral, shall we?"

He wondered if he should have told her what he did. It felt damn uncomfortable, but he felt that it had been the right thing to do, given their bond of trust.

She continued, "You want me to search for your son, and you want me to be discreet about it. What makes you think that I'll have better luck than you?"

"Like you said, you have your sources."

At that moment, he heard another voice quietly speaking to her, sounding vaguely familiar

"I'm sorry, Bill, but my friend tells me that the wire taps may start up again at any moment, so I have to go now."

"All right. But I want to make one thing clear. When I said that I missed you, I meant it."

"I did too."

He stubbed out his cigarette. "Goodbye, and good hunting."

88888

When the line went dead, Laura turned to her friend.

"Thank you, Mr. Gaeta, for your help. I hope that I don't get you into trouble for this."

"No worries about that" replied the President's aide. "Baltar's too busy rutting about at this time of night to give a shit."

"Good. Could you do me another favor? See if you could dredge up some rumors or other information regarding Lee Adama and Kara Thrace?"

"Of course, anytime."


	9. Chapter 9

RUNAWAY BRIDE(GROOM): Pt 9

The aftermath of what should have been Lee & Dee's wedding day...

A few days later...

The old man skidded his ancient quad bike to a halt at the end of the isolated dirt road. After he hopped off, he attentively assisted his attractive female passenger. "There you go! I told you those roads were too muddy for a lady like you to be tromping about."

Laura smiled. "Thank you so much for the ride, Mr. Canellos. I appreciate it."

"Oh, you can call me Ian, Ms. President."

Laura leaned forward. "You might want to be careful what you say out in the open, Ian." Even though, technically, free speech was still a fundamental right among the colonists, rumors were starting to spread of Baltar's thugs leaning on those speaking against her successor. She'd overheard some of her students talking about their parents taking beatings from those hoods after a peaceful protest a couple of months back.

"Pssh! I didn't vote for the slimy bastard! I say that they should have let the mistake go and let you stay! Ah well. In my book, you're still President."

She didn't correct him, didn't tell him exactly what dirty dealings she and her allies had to do to get her reelected. Laura really didn't miss being President. She had hated the weight and responsibility...the choices she had made. There were times during the election she'd look in the mirror, and see somebody whose soul was dying. In spite of that, though, she was glad that she had made such a positive impression on ordinary people, like Ian Canellos.

After promising not to tell anyone of her side trip, Ian drove off to work, while Laura made her way towards a row of green canvas tents near the forest. She took a deep breath in–the air felt clean, with a hint of pine, almost like the area around her aunt's house at Lake Juno. A far cry from the smoke and stench of New Caprica City. She mentally followed the directions on the piece of paper tucked in the breast pocket of her overcoat and walked around behind the line of tents. Sure enough, the small, corrugated metal shack was there–nobody would have seen it, unless told to look.

99999

It had taken her three days to find them.

Following the intel that Felix Gaeta had graciously provided, she first visited the last person known to have seen Lee and Kara.

"Well, Ms. Roslin", Margaret Edmonson started, "They snuck onto my Raptor and hid in a big crate. Just as I was entering the atmosphere, they popped out and demanded that I continue to take them planet-side."

"Were they armed?"

"No, ah, they definitely weren't armed...but they threatened to beat me up if I said anything right away. You never saw them fighting with each other, I did. It used to get scary sometimes, so I didn't want to get on both of their bad sides."

"I see."

"So I continued onto the Delos Landing Strip, and they jumped out at soon as I could open the hatch. That was the last I saw of them."

"Aside from what you told me, was there anything else, any detail that might help?"

"Nothing I can think of."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing, except they were frakking in the back of my ship, and there was nothing I could do about it."

"Anything, besides that?"

"Uh--"

A man entered the tent. He looked like he hadn't expected Edmonson to have company. "Oh, uh, hi Ms. Roslin."

"Hello. You are?..."

"Brendan Costanza", he shook her hand. "Most people around here call me Hot Dog."

"She's asking about Starbuck and Apollo."

Costanza whistled. "Good luck finding them. Like finding a needle in a haystack. I can't say I'm surprised they've run off together." He turned to Edmonson. "'Track, remember when we had the maintenance shift after Colonial Day, how hard he hit her after she frakked–"

"Hot Dog, I don't think Ms. Roslin's interested in that."

"I'm just saying, they're passionate, man. He's wound up tight, she eggs him on. Something was bound to happen."

"Well, thank you Mr. Costanza, Ms. Edmonson–"

Edmonson jumped up. "Oh! I almost forgot! He left behind his jacket, if you're interested." She pulled out from a locker a navy blue dress uniform jacket, with commander's pips on the collar and handed it to Laura. The older woman looked closely at the item of clothing, checking for clues. Dipping her hand into one of the side pockets, she pulled out a pair of men's briefs. She raised an eyebrow.

The young woman blushed furiously. "Uh, he left those behind, too."

99999

"That poor bastard. After that video aired, there hasn't been a moment peace where he's concerned."

Roslin watched the tall, dark-skinned soldier shake his head at the memory of his teammate. She had lucked out when she'd learned that some of the Galactica's marines had come down to guard supplies being shipped down. "Corporal Kantor, did they find any other traces of the Commander or Kara Thrace?"

"Some of the other men found some blood-stained gloves. Thought that he might have been taken by force. I don't think so. They didn't see the look in his eyes–that Look of Doom. He was running away from Lieutenant Dualla as fast as his feet could carry him."

For some reason, that put a smile on her face...

"Laura, you should have seen it!" Ellen Tigh guffawed. "Dualla flashing her tits, screeching at the top of her lungs! That beefy guard running after her! Oh, Gods! Saul and I were just dying!"

Roslin avoided Ellen whenever possible. However, Tigh's wife had accosted her at the marketplace, fishing for any further news of Lee Adama. Laura, in turn, decided to grit her teeth and do some fishing of her own.

"That must have been a sight. Did Commander Adama give any indication of where he was going."

"No. Nothing that Saul could figure, anyway. Thrace definitely had the right idea to steal him away. Those eyes! Those pecs! Those buns!..."

99999

A more solid lead was, amazingly enough, among the volunteers at the preschool.

"Yes, I saw Lee a couple of days ago," responded Shevon, one of her teachers-in-training. As they watched her daughter Paya playing jump rope with a knot of other little girls in the makeshift playground, she explained her connection to Lee Adama. Before the cylons attacked Virgon, she been a cocktail waitress at one of the major casinos in Tyllium City, struggling to make ends meet after her husband–a security guard--was killed during a robbery. Afterwords, when she and Paya escaped the destruction of their world, she was forced to rely on her assets–her long legs, long blonde hair, and sensual smile–to survive. Eventually, she worked as a prostitute aboard Cloud Nine , which was where she and Lee had formed a 'business arrangement'. When he had killed her boss, Phelan, he had made sure that she and Paya started a new life elsewhere.

"Where did you see him last?" asked Laura.

"We've kept in loose contact for the past few months, so he knew where we were when we came down. He and his girlfriend were waiting in my tent after my shift here–scared the hell out of me. He said that they were hiding, and that they needed my help. How could I say no, after what he did for me?" She paused briefly to warn a little boy not to wander far, before continuing her story. "So I got him some warmer clothes, snuck them some extra food and blankets, and they took off before sunrise."

"Did they mention where they were going?"

"He thought it best if I didn't know much." She grinned in recollection. "His girl wasn't thrilled with me helping them, though. She kept looking at me up and down, sizing me up. I guess I don't blame her, considering our past..."

99999

After running in to several dead ends, she entered the Union Hall to find its president, the former L.S.O. of the Galactica, leaning over a desk, practicing a speech. Mr. Gaeta had suggested that, if anybody knew where the bodies lay, it was him.

"Hello there Ms. Roslin."

"Hello, there Mr. Tyrol. How are you doing?"

"Fine, fine. I'm just practicing a speech for the next meeting. What about you?"

"Oh, keeping busy with the children. We've finally got enough volunteers to staff the after-school program, so that's a relief."

"Good."

"And how's your wife? I believe she's expecting, isn't she?"

"Yeah. The doc says she's due in twelve weeks."

"That's lovely. Listen," she said, gently tugging him out of earshot of a couple of workers milling about. "I need to ask a favor of you."

"Sure. What do you need? Has the school generator pooped out on you again?"

"No, it's working perfectly. I'm actually looking for someone."

"Who?"

"He's the son of a friend of mine, someone who disappeared a couple of weeks ago. His father is worried about him and would like to know that he's all right."

Tyrol looked at her directly in the eye, pausing for a moment before answering. "Why are you coming to me?"

"You're familiar with him, so I thought you might have contacted you."

"Well, unfortunately, I'm not sure I can help you. Have you thought about going through the authorities?"

"This is a personal, unofficial inquiry on behalf of my friend. There's no need to get anybody else involved. I'd just like to speak with him."

He looked into her eyes, as if deciding whether or not to trust her.

"I'll see what I can do."

The next day, one of her students gave her a note from Tyrol.

99999

She approached the shack, and knocked gently on the makeshift door.

"Commander Apollo, it's Laura Roslin." She heard rustling from within. "I apologize for coming this early, but I thought that it would be best if I came at a time when less people would see me. " Inside she heard a "frak", some stumbling, and the noise of clothing being pulled on. She walked to a nearby lawn chair by a small, empty fire pit, and sat, waiting patiently. A couple of minutes later, the door squeaked open and the object of her search walked out.

As Lee slowly made his way towards her, she noticed the change in him. Instead of the severe, blue Colonial Fleet uniform, he was wearing an ancient brown peacoat, which was slightly too big for him, a pair of faded blue jeans, and mud-encrusted hiking boots. No clean cut clean-cut and shaven boy scout there-- his hair was grown out slightly with the promise of soft waves, his jaw shaded by a few days of growth. His blue eyes–once icy and guarded--were softer, more vulnerable. The overall picture of him gave her the impression of a schoolboy found out and facing the inevitable. _I keep forgetting he's so young._

He stopped by an adjacent chair, pulled it near her and sat down wearily.

He sighed, "Hello, Laura."

"Hello, Lee."

"I take it this isn't a social call."

"Normally, I take walks early in the morning, so I thought that nobody would notice if I disappeared for an hour or so."

He looked at her warily. "You didn't tell anybody."

"Like I said to Mr. Tyrol, I didn't want anybody else involved. I just wanted to talk."

"Ever the diplomat."

"I guess being President was good for something, now, wasn't it?"

In spite of himself, Lee smiled.

Right then, the door to the shack opened again, revealing Kara Thrace, dressed in her old fatigues . She had pulled her long, blonde hair back in a loose ponytail, her eyes hesitant. "Hi."

"Hello, Kara. Come join us."

Kara took a small crate next to the shack, and set it next to Lee. "So, where are the marines?", she asked cheekily as plopped down.

"Probably bored out of their gourd aboard Galactica. From what I heard, Lee's exodus was the most excitement they've had in a while."

"Bummer. I was looking forward to being thrown in the brig again. I kinda miss it."

"You mean having me being thrown in the brig. You're a civvy now", Lee reminded her.

"Well, hopefully, nobody will need to end up in the brig", said Laura. "You'll find that your father is a lot more understanding than you think."

"I hate to burst your bubble", Lee snorted, "But somebody's going to the brig, and it'll probably me." He pulled out a near-empty pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket(_I didn't know he smoked, _Laura thought. _Another chink in the image of Lee Adama.)_ , and fumbled around a little more for a lighter. Kara pulled one out of her pants pocket, holding the flame as he lit up. Laura noticed their postures, their total comfort in each other's presence. For as long as she could remember, they had always been on their guard with one another. But now, there was no pretense, no hesitation.

Lee continued, "I'm a Commander in the Colonial Fleet. I abandoned my duty, therefore I must pay the price."

"I'm sure that–"

"Laura, you know my father. He's a man bound by honor and duty. Do you think he would forget that, even though the Cylons are gone?

Laura wanted to say yes, especially in light of her conversation with the Admiral, but she knew better. Bill Adama was a man of honor, who would not let anyone forget what it meant to be in the Fleet, even his own son. "Well, I guess the question now is, what are you going to do next?"

"What do you mean?"

"We both now agree that you will most likely spend time in jail, but what are you going to do afterwords?"

Lee took a long drag from his cigarette _(Dammit, he even smokes like his father!)_. "I don't knowI haven't even thought that far ahead."

Laura sat up, leaning in towards him. "Lee, I've only known you for less than two years, but I know that you are as much of a man of honor and duty as your father. You wouldn't have abandoned your duty without good reason."

"I had good reason." Lee slipped his free hand into one of Kara's.

"Maybe, but there were...other things going on in your life. I'm not saying that your love for each other isn't real. It's more than obvious that it is. What I am saying is that stress of command, along with all the other...shit...we've been up against these past two years has taken its toll on youYour father even mentioned that he thought you were merely 'going through the motions'."

"Gee, I didn't even think he noticed."

"Well, he did, and it concerned him. He didn't pursue it further because he didn't think you would have wanted his interference."

Lee seemed to mull this information over. "We've never been that close. We've gotten closer, but not close enough."

"Ever your father's son", Laura shook her head.

"Tell me about it", added Kara. "Both stubborn as mules." Lee gave her an accusatory look. "Oh, come on, Lee! I've been telling you both to work out your bullshit for years."

"It's not that easy."

"No, Lee, it's not." Kara turned to Laura. "So, what can we do in the meantime?"

"Lee didn't answer my question. What are you going to do?"

Lee jumped up. "I don't know!" He stalked away from the firepit, throwing his cigarette on the ground. "I said I haven't thought that far!"

Laura sat back in her chair, measuring her next words with care. "My father used to say, 'If you don't know what you want, ask yourself what you don't want.' What don't you want?"

Lee stopped where he was, his back turned to them.

Kara broke the silence. "Well, I know I don't want to remain decaffeinated for the rest of this lovely morning. We've got sludge that resembles green tea. It's not coffee, but it keeps us from crawling up the walls. Want some?"

"That would be lovely." As Kara disappeared into the shack, Laura continued to look at Lee's back.

"I don't want to live without her", he stated softly.

"Okay, that's a start. I'm sure that the Admiral wouldn't mind if Kara rejoined the Fleet, if she wants to. Which now begs the question, do you still want to be in the Fleet?"

Lee turned around, and slowly walked back. "Back during the decommissioning ceremony, I had this...plan...this whole other life I was going to live. I was going to wait another year before I resigned my commission, take the money I'd saved up, and open a bar somewhere. I had an old buddy of mine from War College, who got sick of the whole thing, and ended up running a restaurant on Picon. I was going to look him up, see if he wanted to be partners-- him managing the food aspect, and me being running the actual bar. I even had a place in mind...This abandoned restaurant on the main drag that need a whole lot of remodeling."

"It sounds like it would have been nice."

"Yeah. But then the Cylons came, and I was stuck in the Fleet, with my Dad as C.O., and no way out. No options. Nothing."

"So, you want out of the Fleet? You could resign after your sentence, start your own place here."

"With what? No, that's not an option anymore. I don't belong here anymore than I belong on the Pegasus. What I want..."

"Yes."

"If I have to go back, what I want..."

"Go on."

"What I want is to fly again."

Laura steepled her hands under her chin. "You want to be a pilot again."

"I've always been a pilot. The worst thing that my father could have done to me was to take away my flight status."

"I heard you were good as Commander of the Pegasus. You had even turned the crew around, brought moral up. For someone who dislikes command, you're pretty good at it."

"You don't understand. I don't mind being a leader. I enjoy it. I am good at it. But what I want..."

"What he wants is to be C.A.G. again", interrupted Kara, holding three steaming mugs.

Laura took hold of hers. "Is that what you want?"

"Well, there's not much need for one, considering that most of my former pilots are on the surface."

"He's dying to be a dipstick again, but with only half the responsibility", Kara jutted a mug in his direction.

"And you want to be a pain in the ass again!"

"You know you want it. And I'll be a pain in your ass for as long as you need me."

Sensing the light at the end of the tunnel, Laura stood up. "Besides, there's no guarantee that the Cylons won't find us again. Who better to keep us prepared than you."

"I'll drink to that." Kara gave Lee his mug, raising hers in a toast. "Here's to bright, shiny futures."

As they clinked their mugs together, a rare sight appeared–a ray of sunshine broke through the ever present cloud cover, bathing the campsite in a golden glow.

Laura gazed in wonder, "Now that's a sign from the Gods if there ever was one."


	10. Chapter 10

RUNAWAY BRIDE(GROOM): Pt 10

The aftermath of what should have been Lee & Dee's wedding day...

One month later...

"I can't thank you enough, Laura, for finding my son."

"My pleasure, Bill."

It was like old times. She reclining in her canvas chair (it was much too cold to kick off her shoes, though), her legs stretched out. He standing across from her, pouring himself a steaming cup of coffee. Though they were in a small drafty tent, the light from the propane lantern lent a warm ambiance to her makeshift living room. As he sat down on a small bench, she felt just as comfortable with his company as she had aboard Colonial One. She took a sip from her chipped ceramic mug before speaking again. "It almost frightened me how broken down he was. If we were back home instead of on this mudball, I'd say he was due for a long vacation."

"What can I tell you?" he responded, blowing lightly over his coffee to cool it. "We Adamas are workaholics. We don't like taking breaks."

"Unless something breaks you first."

He unconciously put his right hand towards his chest, remembering how he was brought down by a bullet from one of the Sharons. "Yeah, well, I guess it's a matter of time before a wheel falls off."

"So, how much longer is he in the brig?"

"He's been there for a month, so he has one more to go."

"Has he gone crazy yet?"

"If he's going to be a pilot again, he needs to build up his strength, so I've allowed him an hour in the gym per day. Other than that, I lend him books, he has visitors. I even have breakfast with him in his cell every morning. We actually talk then."

"How's that going?"

"Better. We sometimes just glare at each other. Other times, though, we've been able to at least broach some difficult subjects, like my divorce from his mother, Zak, Cain...I think we're finally getting somewhere... at least until we frak up." He looked at his watch. "Damn! I got to meet Baltar in twenty minutes. Once I get there, he'll probably make me wait for an hour." _Or make me watch that frakking video._

"I guess this is goodbye, then." she said, the tone of her voice revealing her disappointment.

"Actually, what are you doing this evening?"

"I've got a staff meeting at five. Otherwise, nothing else. Why?"

"My shuttle will take off at about 2200, so I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner with me, here. I brought some extra rations, and a bottle of some of that whisky you liked." He stopped, giving her a look that spoke volumes to her. "It's been too long."

Laura smiled, hearing the plea under the friendly invitation. Luckily for him, there was peach-colored silk peignoir under her bed that was dying to come out and meet him. "I have a better idea. I know the perfect place. It's classy, warm, dry, and it has a real bed...with real sheets..."

101010

Lee was doing pushups on the floor of his cell when he heard the hatch to the brig swing open, and familiar footsteps approaching. He jumped to his feet, looking at the woman he loved.

"Captain."

"Major."

Kara leaned into the bars. "This looks familiar. What's the charge this time?"

"Oh, dumping an inferior bitch, abandoning my post, living in sin with a loose woman–ow!"

"I may be loose, but you're the one behind bars."

He reached through the bars, touching the side of her head. "What happened to your hair?" It was short again, like the way she had it before she resigned her commission. _It's a shame_, he thought. He had liked it long, the way it had brushed against his skin as she moved above him. On the other hand, the haircut framed her face better, the glow from her blonde hair making her look like an angel.

"Oh, I got bored last night, since you're not there to bug me."

"And what brings you here now?"

"I miss you."

"You see me every day."

"No, I mean I miss you...badly."

"Oh."

"I was wondering what the policy is regarding conjugal visits."

"But we're not married yet."

"One thing at a time, Adama. Get out of here first. You've got four more weeks, so...what are we going to do in the meantime?"

He had missed her too–a lot. Because he was usually locked in his cell with somebody watching him at all times, the only occasion he had for release was during his five minute shower, and that was no substitute for the what was standing right in front of him. He leaned forward, his voice lowering to a sexy growl. "Well, Starbuck, you are famous for your out-of-the-box thinking. Think of something."

She gave him a wicked smile as she turned to the guard. "Corporal, you can stay outside for the next hour."

The redheaded marine grinned back at her, giving her a crisp salute before exiting the room. _It was worth it to see them happy. Well, almost. _Weeks later, and the guys were still ragging on him.

As Trigger stepped out into the corridor, he saw his relief walking towards him. "Hey, Sledge! One month exactly! And they're doing it through the motherfrakking bars! Pay up, buddy, 'cause aren't going to smell pretty anymore!_"_

_101010_

"So Dee visited him about a week ago. That, apparently, went better than expected. They're still not each other's favorite person, but I guess the whole thing knocked some sense into her head."

Helo paused, looking at Sharon, still sitting on the bunk opposite of him, with her back to the bulkhead, hugging her knees. She still hadn't said a word-- not since the day after their infant daughter died almost a year ago. After the Admiral deemed that she was no longer a threat to the security of the fleet, he had allowed her a bunk in one of the many empty rooms aboard Galactica. But still, she hadn't said a word. She did nothing but either sit in her bunk, staring blankly at the walls, or wander aimlessly through the corridors of Galactica. For the most part, the remaining crew ignored her, until she was almost invisible (he didn't dare bring her to the Pegasus).

There were times after Hera's death that he wanted to shake her, slap her, yell at her, anything to see life in those eyes again. Instead of finding comfort in each other, she had shut him out completely, making him angry and frustrated at first, and then, after a while...just sad.

"Well, I've gotta get back to the Pegasus. A Commander's work is never done. He stood up. "I don't know when's the next time I can visit. My next meeting with the Admiral's..."

Sharon had put her forehead to her knees, her body shaking. Every once in a while, when she had fallen asleep, she cried, calling out for Hera. He quickly sat next to her. "It's okay, sweetheart. I've got you." But even as he tried to hold her, she pushed him away, and looked up.

"That is so frakked up."

She was laughing. Definitely laughing.

Helo was stunned. _After so long...Of all the things she could have said..._"Uh, what's so frakked up?"

"What the frak have you been talking to me about the past hour?" Her voice was a little hoarse from disuse, but it was definitely her. "Dee being dumped on her ass! The wedding from hell! Apollo and Starbuck running off! Oh Lords of Kobol!"

"Uh, Sharon–"

"I mean, Dee's always going for the Gold, if you know what I mean. Before the decommissioning ceremony, Dee was always mooning over Adama. I mean, we'd be lying in our bunks and she'd be yakking about how noble and dignified he was and shit. Gods, she wouldn't stop! Oh, and one time, when she had too much ambrosia at Gaeta's birthday party, she told me she had sexual fantasies about him! Ugh! Too much information, if you ask me!"

Helo didn't know what to say. All he knew was that she had come back to life, talking as if a dam had burst. "So she had a thing for Apollo for a long time–"

"No, stupid! The other Adama! Ugh! He's old enough to be her father! That's why I was so shocked when she started dating Billy. He was so...young!"

"Uh, yeah. So...you have been listening to me."

Her laughter died down, her dark eyes fixing on his. "Of course I have."

"All this time?"

"Yeah."

"Then why–"

"Why haven't I said anything?" She took a deep breath in, wisps of her hair floating up as she exhaled. "I just didn't feel like it."

"You didn't feel like it. How do you think I felt?" A note of anger tinged his question.

She took his hand, placing it on her knee, gently brushing her fingers soothingly over it. "I'm not saying that you felt any less. It's just that I carried Hera inside of me, and to lose her like that, after everything we've been through together, I couldn't..."

He closed the gap between them, holding her in a fierce, yet gentle hug. "It's okay. You don't have to explain. I've got you. I've got you back. I've got my Sharon back." He kept repeating it over and over again, as trying to make that moment seem real. He closed his eyes, breathing in her scent, feeling the warmth of her fragile body. _I've got her back..._

Sharon held him just as passionately–because she was scared.

The loss of her child hadn't been the only reason she'd been quiet. She'd been listening, not with her ears, but with whatever her Cylon nature had given her to sense that something was coming. Something big. As she had wandered through the corridors of Galactica over the months, she was trying to get a clue, a scent, a sign. Anything. The humanistic part of her had wanted to warn them, but the legacy of betrayals and her own grief had killed any incentive she had to speak up. Still, there was time. And there was Helo. _Whatever the fates are going to throw at us, there is love._

The End


End file.
